


The Shovel Talk

by UltimateGryffindork



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, Protective Everyone, Shovel Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:17:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateGryffindork/pseuds/UltimateGryffindork
Summary: Five times Jack was given the shovel talk, and one time Bitty was given it.





	The Shovel Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> This is my first Check Please! fic, and I hope the characterisation is all okay! I'm a Brit currently living in New England with no idea how people from the South talk, so I hope I put enough "y'all"s in there...
> 
> Enjoy!

**1\. Coach Bittle**

It wasn’t hard for Coach to get Jack by himself for a few minutes. All it needed was Mrs Cooper from three doors down to ring in a crisis because her casserole for the pot luck was burnt beyond repair, and suddenly Suzanne and Eric were running round the kitchen with pie tins and sticks of butter. Jack had tried to help, but the poor boy was turned away by a well-meaning but frazzled Eric.

“I would usually be so grateful for the help, you know I would, but we only have a couple hours and with more than two of us in the kitchen it’ll just take even longer.”

Coach saw Eric’s hand twitch, as if he was going to put it comfortingly on Jack’s shoulder before thinking better of it.

“How ‘bout you watch the game with my dad?”

Coach didn’t have to watch Jack to know that he’d shaken his head in wide-eyed panic.

“Go on. It won’t be so bad, y’all’ll enjoy it.”

And that was how Coach found himself watching football with his son’s professional-hockey-playing ‘friend’.

Eric hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to. Coach may pretend to be completely blind to this sort of thing, but he knew his son, and his suspicions had only been confirmed when he heard Eric sneaking back into his room from the guest room in the early hours the previous morning. He couldn’t blame him for not saying anything. This was Georgia, after all, and Coach was no stranger to the aggressive homophobia in the sporting industry. Times were changing but not fast enough for his son, or for Jack.

Jack had accepted the beer Coach had offered him, taking small sips but nothing more as he warily watched the game, perched rigidly on the edge of the couch.

Coach was not surprised at all by Jack’s skittishness. He may not know much about hockey, but he knew enough to be aware of Jack’s past, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t googled him when Eric had asked if Jack could come to stay. He didn’t blame Jack for anything that had happened, not at all, but he knew that being prone to anxiety would not mix well with being left alone with your secret boyfriend’s dad for the first time.

“What do you think?” Coach asked gruffly, pointing vaguely at the TV with his beer.

“Oh!” Jack said, obviously surprised at having been asked a question. “It’s, er…”

“Those refs are a joke,” said Coach, taking pity and throwing Jack a bone.

“Absolutely, sir.”

There was another long silence, a commercial playing in the background. Coach noticed the corners of Jack’s mouth twitch into a smile, and realised that Suzanne and Eric’s voices were drifting through from the kitchen.

_“Dicky, sweetie, you’re absolutely sure Jack doesn’t mind being away from home for the fourth?”_

_“He’s Canadian, it’s fine! You won’t have Bad Bob Zimmermann at our door demanding his son back any time soon. Although you’d probably like to see him again, huh, mama?”_

_“Dicky, are you – what is it you boys call it – are you chirping me?”_

_“You got it, mama!”_

Coach chuckled, making Jack jump.

“That kid really is something else.”

He watched Jack carefully as he nodded, a happy smile on his face. “That he is, sir. You – you must be very proud.”

“That I am,” said Coach, taking another sip of beer. “That boy means everything to me. I hope you know that.”

He saw Jack freeze, the implication of his words starting to sink in, but Jack didn’t say anything.

Coach continued, “If anyone were to hurt him… well, they’d better watch out. And I mean _anyone_.”

Jack gulped, his eyes wide and fearful. “Yes, I – understood, sir.”

“Glad we got that out of the way.” Coach settled back into his armchair. “Now, son, let me teach you about the glory that is football.”

 

**2\. Lardo**

Lardo is very, _very_ protective of the boys on her hockey team. (It’s not really _her_ team, but it may as well be.) If anyone were to ever question it she would explain that life is easier for her if she doesn’t have to deal with broken hearts and drama on the ice, but every time she explained that Shitty would just ruffle her hair, laughing loudly and saying, “You love us all really!”

Her reputation preceded her now, and had done for some months. Everyone knew that you didn’t mess around with the hockey team, lest a tiny art major come and hunt you down. Countless sorority girls, _Daily_ reporters and even professors had been at the receiving end of her wrath at some point or other, and it wasn’t unknown for crowds to part to let her through.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t had her suspicions about Jack and Bitty; really, who hadn’t? They’d been making heart-eyes at each other for months, and as senior year went by with Bitty knowing _far_ too much about Jack’s professional and personal life, she became more and more certain in her mind that she was correct.

As happy as she was for them, she could see the toll it was taking on Bitty. Every Sunday night he would come in late, having made up some excuse for being away for the weekend, and smile sadly at the others as he trudged upstairs, texting rapidly. On days when Ransom and Holster were being particularly inappropriate, or there was some ill-meaning speculation on the news, she could hear quiet sobs coming from inside Bitty’s room when she walked past his door.

Jack and Bitty’s announcement over brunch, therefore, did not come as any particular surprise. She was happy for them, of course she was, and she was especially happy with her winnings from the betting pool, but as they walked back to the Haus together she realised that she had a very important job to do.

“Jack,” she called, grabbing his elbow as they stepped through the door. “A word?”

They stayed back in the hallway as everyone else trouped through to the kitchen, Jack waving Bitty on while Shitty loudly celebrated about how much he’d missed Bitty’s pies.

“Everything okay?” Jack asked, concerned.

“Eric Bittle is the most pure-hearted, wholesome soul to ever walk this earth,” she said shortly, getting straight to the point. “I love each and every person on this team, but you hurt him? I end you.”

Jack looked appropriately terrified, so she nodded curtly.

“Good talk.”

 

**3\. Shitty**

Shitty was sprawled over Jack’s couch in only his boxers, which he’d reluctantly put back on when Jack had firmly told him that only two people were allowed to have their bare asses on that couch, and Shitty was not one of them. For hygiene purposes, Shitty had re-clothed.

“Bro, it’s so cool that you and Bitty are, like, a thing. I mean, I hate my heteronormative ass for assuming you had a girlfriend, but bro. BITTY. Good going, my man, you did fucking well.”

Jack grunted an amiable response through a mouthful of defrosted pie, unsure what to say to Shitty’s exuberant support.

“And I bet the sex is fucking amazing! Bruh, Bitty’s so fucking flexible, and that ass of yours? Angels weep, man, they must fucking weep.”

Jack choked on his aforementioned pie.

“But listen, bro,” Shitty said. “Just fucking listen. You break his fucking heart, and I’ll find a way to get revenge. You’re my best bro, man, but Bitty deserves the fucking best, and no friendship is worth sacrificing those pies he makes. You hear me?”

“Shits, I’m a professional athlete. I pick you up with ease on a regular basis.”

“I’d find a way, bruh. I’d find a fucking way. You guys divorce, I’ll be Bitty’s lawyer, and have fun seeing a fucking cent of that big fat NHL salary.”

“We’ve been dating for eight months, Shitty, I think it’s a bit early to start worrying about divorce settlements. And don’t worry – I have no intention of divorcing Bitty.”

“Good,” said Shitty firmly, before tearing up. “I’m just – I’m just so fucking happy for you, bro.”

He threw himself at Jack, who awkwardly patted him on the back. “Thanks, Shits. Means a lot.”

 

**4\. Ransom and Holster**

Everyone in the Haus always knew when Bitty was in the shower. The bathroom had spectacular acoustics, and everyone was accustomed now to waking up to the sounds of Bitty loudly singing Beyoncé.

One unfortunate disadvantage of this routine was that it hadn’t occurred to anyone that Bitty was capable of taking showers without singing, and so when his usual shower time came and went without _If I Were A Boy_ ringing around every corner of the Haus, it was usually safe to assume that Bitty wasn’t there.

It had occurred to no one, however, that there was one instance in which Bitty took a shower without singing.

Namely, if he wasn’t the only one in there.

After an early morning, pre-coffee incident had left Chowder very traumatised, Jack and Bitty had decided that it would be better if they _didn’t_ shower together.

It was one Saturday morning when, with _Crazy In Love_ echoing round the Haus, Jack was pulled out of his book by a knock on Bitty’s door. Tugging a t-shirt on and standing up, he called out, “Come in!”

Ransom and Holster burst into the room, both leaping onto Bitty’s bed.

“Come on in, bro. Shut the door, pull up a chair,” said Ransom to a very confused Jack.

“What’s this about? And since when do you guys knock?” Jack said as he sat in Bitty’s desk chair.

“Since Bitty turned us all into respectable gentlemen who Respect His Boundaries and Don’t Interrupt When He’s Having Skype Sex,” said Holster without skipping a beat.

“And we have something very serious to discuss with you, bro,” said Ransom.

“Very serious indeed.”

“You see, as wonderful as it is that Bitty is finally getting that Zimmerass – ”

“Good one, bro.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“While we’re all very happy that Bitty finally Touched The Butt, we wanted to make something very clear.”

“Very, very clear.”

“As clear as the shape of that truly marvellous ass through those shorts.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “This is starting to get a little weird.”

“Nah, bro. What’s weird is thinking that you can swan in here, all lovey-dovey – ”

“I literally lived here for three years.”

“ – and romance the hell out of that boy.”

“We’re defensemen, bro.”

“Yeah. Defenders of Bitty’s heart!”

“And we can’t let you think you can toy with his feelings with no consequences.”

“I’m not toying with his feelings!” Jack exclaimed. “Seriously. I – I’ve never felt about anyone the way I’ve felt about Bitty. I have no intentions of hurting him. _Ever_.”

“Good,” said Holster. “Just making sure.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ransom. “Good talk, bro.”

Jack grinned despite himself.

“Dude, what’s so funny?” demanded Ransom.

“Bitty’s really lucky to have you guys looking out for him,” Jack said. “Seriously. Thank you, guys.”

“Yeah, well, Bitty’s lucky to have twenty-four-hour access to that glorious, _glorious_ ass.”

Jack stood up, sighing as he opened the door. “Okay, you can leave now.”

 

**5\. Tater**

Bitty had insisted on supplying Jack with a hamper of mini-pies for his first day of training with the Falconers.

“Honey, the way to any man’s heart is through his stomach, and hockey players are no exception. In fact, they made the rule.”

“I don’t think the nutritionists will be too pleased with me, Bittle, this isn’t exactly on the meal plan.”

“Well, eat them before y’all are found out.”

“Are you sure bringing pies on the first day is the best way to get to know people? I don’t want to look like I’m desperate or anything.”

“Sweetie, only one of us is dating someone with a seven-figure salary. Trust me: baked goods get people to like you.”

Jack had to admit that Bitty had a point.

And that was how he ended up with twenty-two tall, muscly athletes devouring mini-pies in the locker room on his first day at his new job.

“I know I shouldn’t eat just before going out onto the ice,” one guy – Jack thought his name was Marty – said to him in Quebecois French, “but maple syrup in the crust? This is genius. Tastes like home.”

“These pies are very good, yes?” said a man with a very thick Russian accent. “You will bring more tomorrow? Your girlfriend must be good cook.”

“Er,” Jack stammered awkwardly. “Um, I mean, I don’t have a girlfriend, my friend - ”

“Ahh, Zimmboni, less worrying,” said the man good-naturedly. “I understand, private life, yes, difficult with newspapers and Buzzfeed. But you must not break up with her, yes? Or the pies will stop?”

Jack only gaped wordlessly, as the man – his jersey said Mashkov, but Jack could have sworn his name was something to do with potatoes – took the last pie out of the hamper.

 

**+1. Bob Zimmermann**

Bitty had met the Zimmermanns before, if briefly, but this was the first time he was meeting them in his official capacity as Jack’s boyfriend. He was nervous, of course he was. He’d never been introduced to anyone’s parents like this before, and certainly not parents who were each in their own right a celebrity. Jack had assured him many times that they loved him and were looking forward to him staying with them, but he couldn’t quite shake off the nerves.

The Zimmermanns’ house was a world away from his own. Quite apart from its size – the living room alone could comfortably encompass most of his home – you couldn’t mistake this for a star’s house. Apart from a collection of photos of Jack as a child, which he had complained about in French while his mother rolled her eyes, the walls were decorated with professional photos of famous games, photoshoots, Bob holding the Stanley Cup, Alicia shaking hands with famous designers and actresses.

Bitty had yet to officially come out to his parents, although he was sure that by now they knew, and while they’d met Jack they hadn’t been aware at the time of the exact nature of their relationship. Even if Bitty were to have Jack over as his boyfriend, he was sure it wouldn’t be like this. He could imagine it now; his mother insisting that they had separate rooms and checking on them during the night to make sure they were in the right beds, the awkward moments surrounding every handhold and slightest touch.

It had been a surprise, then, to be told that the guest room was made up if he wanted it but it was his choice, and to be able to curl up with Jack on the couch while they all watched TV together, or to play board games two-a-side with him and Jack against Bob and Alicia.

He’d been staying with the Zimmermanns for three days when he had his first conversation alone with Bob Zimmermann.

“Would you like a hand, Mr Zimmermann?” he’d asked as Bob started clearing the table after dinner one evening.

“Please, Eric, call me Bob – and sure, go right ahead!”

“I’ll help too,” Jack said, standing up, but at a glance from Bob, Alicia put her hand on his arm.

“Actually, Jack, could you help me sort the laundry upstairs?”

Jack glanced apologetically at Bitty, who smiled reassuringly.

“Sure, maman.”

Bitty had never dealt well with silence, so he chatted away while he and Bob cleared the table, asking for any and all anecdotes from Bob’s NHL days: anecdotes which he was happy to supply. It was only when they were in the kitchen, Bob washing and Bitty drying, that the conversation turned to Jack.

“I’m glad you and Jack are together,” Bob said as he washed the plates. “You make him very happy, and I’m glad that he has someone like you.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Bitty, blushing. “I – I’m very happy. I, I care about Jack, and I like him a whole lot. I – I love him, sir.”

“I’m sure,” said Bob, and the fact that he didn’t correct Bitty’s choice of address showed how serious he was. “As I’m sure you understand, I worry a lot about Jack. He hasn’t had the easiest life, as I’m sure you know. I worry less now I know he’s got you.”

Bitty couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“But he’s been hurt,” continued Bob. “I’m sure you know that, as well. But I need you to understand how important it is that Jack is never hurt like that again.”

It suddenly occurred to Bitty that Bob maybe knew more about Kent Parson than Jack realised.

“I know you mean well,” said Bob, “and I know that you can’t promise me that everything is going to end happily ever after. But – and know that I only have Jack’s best interests at heart when I say this – I will not hesitate to hold you personally responsible for anything that happens to him. Jack is my only son, and – that day – I felt like a part of me went through what Jack went through. For a few minutes I thought I was going to lose him, and one day, if you have children, you’ll understand that feeling. The way Jack is now? That’s the happiest he’s been in years. If you have the power to give him that, you have the power to take it away. I need you to know that if you ever do anything to hurt him – and I mean _anything_ – you will have me to answer to.”

“If I ever do something to hurt Jack, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” said Bitty, finding his voice again. “I love him, Mr Zimmermann, and I can’t imagine my life without him. I can’t begin to imagine what y’all went through, but know that I’ll do anything I can to prevent it from happening again.”

“Good,” said Bob, and Bitty could have sworn he saw a proud smile.

They both jumped as someone cleared their throat in the doorway, turning to see Jack standing in the doorway.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Bob smiled, drying his hands and squeezing Bitty’s shoulder before leaving the kitchen, pulling Jack into a hug on his way out and whispering something in French.

“Sorry if he was… intense,” Jack said, wrapping his arms around Bitty’s waist.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” said Bitty. “He loves you, and he’s just looking out for you, even if you’re able to look out for yourself by now. Besides, I think I earned it, after the entire hockey team gave _you_ the talk. Besides, we’ll tell my parents in a few weeks, and maybe Coach’ll take it well and lecture you on not breaking my heart.”

Jack was silent for a few seconds too long, causing Bitty to pull back and glare up at him demandingly.

“Jack? Honey, what are you not telling me?”

Jack sighed. “Your dad knows – or at least, suspects. He already… alluded to the various things he would do to me if I ever hurt you.”

For a few seconds Bitty stood with crossed arms and a furrowed brow, processing this information, before taking Jack’s hands in his and kissing him soundly.

“I love you a whole lot. You know that, right?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice. And Bitty?”

“Yes?”

“Je t’aime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment with your feedback!
> 
> SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION  
> If you enjoyed this, I'M PUBLISHING IT A BOOK! Check out my writing at my tumblr: gracewatsonauthor


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